In the Eye of the Basilisk
by Erised
Summary: Blaise Zambini has never had an interest in boys, driven away by their apparent fascination with her. But proximity can change everything and she finds herself inexplicably drawn to a boy with untidy black hair and emerald green eyes.
1. union of a drago and a basilisk

Disclaimer: All unfamiliar belongs to me.

**union**** of a basilisk and a dragon.**

She could feel his slimy eyeballs piercing into her back, tracing the outline of her bra through her shirt. Her shoulders tensed visibly and her fingers itched to relieve her aggravation. If she had her way, he'd be spread-eagled on the ground with blood pouring like a river from his nose. And she'd be laughing. _He's just a boy, a stupid little boy who will get over this crush and start fucking Pansy again and you'll be free. At least you're free from all the other eyes; thank god he's territorial._

Unfortunately, his pursuit had lasted three months.

First he would find any excuse to be around her, and was sickeningly sweet. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, offered to carry her books, he even ventured to wipe her mouth with her napkin while having his best I-have-a-nice-warm-bed-that-you-belong-in look on his face. That wasn't so bad. She could equate it to a dog who decided to pee on a fire hydrant to mark his territory.

Then came the gifts.

He would shower her with gifts: pretty quills, bouquets of flowers, chocolates, anything he thought she would like. One time she arrived to find her bed covered in rose petals and in the center lay the most risqué lingerie she had ever seen. Stockings and garters, with a teddy and hot-pants, all made of lace in a daring color of scarlet. She wasn't a scarlet woman.

Needless to say Pansy was very jealous.

Blaise put up with her fellow Slytherins because she had to. Her family status required her to be social and well-liked, a duty she enjoyed until she found out that beneath the perfected surface of her parent's friends was nothing more than what was in a sugar quill: sugar-coated air. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode were the other two Slytherins in her year, so naturally she had to be all chummy with them. Her hours were filled with beauty treatments, nail polish, gossip, and magazines. All her instincts of climbing trees and whirling through the air on a broom were polished out of her with Pansy's nail buffer.

Pansy had had her eye on Draco ever since she first saw him (which was quite a long time ago) and she didn't take lightly to Draco's incessant flirtation with Blaise. So she stopped talking to Blaise, taking Millicent with her. Millicent would go wherever Pansy went, which Blaise thought was odd because Pansy looked more like a dog (and thus would trail after her master) than Millicent, a pug actually. Blaise was supposed to feel iced but instead she felt oddly freed.

So if she could just put up with his wandering eyes and over-perfected flirtation, Blaise would be free from not only the other boys, but from hours wasted over gossip.

Professor Bins coughed and continued on with his lecture. Since they were in their fifth year and he thought them old enough to be used to his lectures, he had stopped writing on the board, droning on instead. She didn't appreciate it; O.W.L.s were this year and she needed all the help she could get; every one did. Well, perhaps not Hermione Granger.

She wasn't bothered by the Gryfindors as much as the other Slytherins, mainly because she was so quiet she doubted they knew she existed. She didn't bother them and they didn't bother her, and she preferred to stay lost in the mob of Slytherins: present but unnoticed. Not that the Slytherins could be called a mob; they were the smallest house in the school because of Salazar Slytherin's selective attitude. A prerequisite for being in Slytherin was being pureblooded, a dying race. And if any half-bloods or mudbloods got into Slytherin, they certainly didn't tell anyone about it.

She tried to listen and extract the words from his whispy voice, but she failed and resigned herself to rereading the page open before her and copying down all the vital information. She always did this; paying attention in History of Magic class was harder than writing a three-scroll long essay in three minutes. In the desk next to her, Pansy was filing her nails, the noise slightly louder than Professor Binns' voice. It was a wonder no one else noticed, and also a wonder that Pansy had forgotten to use the silencing spell yet again. How that girl was made a prefect…

The bell rang, waking everyone in the room like an alarm clock. Several blinked their eyes sleepily before shoving their mostly blank parchments of notes into their bag. Sometimes, Blaise was one of them.

Leaving with the rest, she split off early on, determined to get to Arithmancy and avoid Draco along the way. They both had that class – the only two in their year who did – and he was keen on walking her to it, using it and the seating arrangements to flirt, mercilessly. She was half-way there before Draco caught up, stepping gracefully from behind a tapestry.

"Professor Binns was boring as ever," he remarked.

"Mmmm," she replied.

"But you were still making notes. I admire that about you Blaise, you seem to be putting Granger into some competition for who can concentrate the most." She responded by walking faster but he was not that easily deterred; his longs legs managed to keep up. She vaguely wondered if his knees were still knobbly, but wasn't curious enough to find out.

"Did you think the Arithmancy homework was hard?" he asked, determined to strike up a conversation.

"Not really."

"Neither did I, but then again it was just research. You know if you ever have any questions, I'd be perfectly willing to help."

"Yes." Blaise had no intention of taking him up on his offer. She had been keeping up an air of nonchalance when around him to prevent herself from lashing out at him, but it was hard. First she had tried being chummy but he mistook that for flirtation and she had stopped that after two months, leaving her to ignore him to the most that was acceptable. Maybe it was time to change tactics.

"Look I know what you're doing?"

"What?" he asked, eager now that he had gotten a reaction out if her.

"You're trying to seduce me into your bed, where I will find you're horribly overrated and never want to be around you again. And you're so intent on me because you've already slept with half the girls in the school and you think I'd be an easier girl to lay than any of the others, because they're all in Ravenclaw and Gryfindor and far too good for you."

"No, I'd never sleep with Millicent Bulstrode."

"Then I commend your taste, but you will not be tasting me. Now if you'll excuse me." He caught her arms and pinned her against the wall in the near empty corridor. The bell sounded in the hallway but he didn't release her.

"How can you be certain?"

"Because I won't let you." He laughed and bent in, coming in for the kill. Blaise swiftly brought her knee up between his legs, but he jumped back before she could do any serious damage. His eyes flashed in challenge. He hadn't been that close to her in a month, not since the last time he'd tried to kiss her, and every time he seemed to forget that she knew how to severely injure a man.

"Now, as I said before, I have to get to class. And you've made me late."

"No, you've made us late."

"You were the one who tried to kiss me."

"You provoked me."

"I don't know what sort of healing charms your mother used, but not all things can be solved with a kiss, especially not cuts and scrapes." They had come upon the Arithmancy classroom and she stepped through the door.

"Sorry we're late, Professor Vector, but I landed in a trick step and the staircase changed before Draco could get me out."

She had been awake all of 2 hours and already Draco had opened the door for her, tucked her hair behind her ear, piled toast onto her plate and buttered it for her, and walked past her in the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. She knew the last one was intentional as he was a prefect and therefore had access to the prefect bathroom and it irritated her to no end. No matter how much she ignored him, he just didn't get the hint. Maybe he thought she was challenging him.

He sat across from her while she chewed the toast he had buttered. Thankfully Pansy was trying desperately to win his attention from Blaise so she wasn't battered by endearments and promises of pleasure. Whenever she thought of having sex with him, she thought about walking in on him showering in the third year. The mental image of his skinny, knobbly-kneed legs was a better anti-aphrodisiac than thinking about her grandparents shagging.

The owls erupted from the windows, pouring in as if owl soup was being poured through the windows. She looked for her brown and white owl, named Amber for her amber eyes that matched Blaise's own. Not seeing Amber, she returned to her toast, surprised when a black owl with bright yellow eyes landed in front of her, holding its leg out to her. She brushed her fingertips free of crumbs and untied the letter. Obediently, the owl flew away and she was left with the letter, _Blaise_ written with flourish on the front. She saved it for later, much to the dismay of Pansy's prying eyes.

The day passed quickly. She was known for being quiet, preferring to harbor what little knowledge she had than flaunt it. A Zambini couldn't be wrong, it would shame the family (though she never quite figured out how), and she never set herself up to be wrong. But Professor McGonagall called on her, ruining her plans for never being wrong and she had been so flustered at being called on she could neither remember the question nor the answer, and even after Professor McGonagall repeated the question she couldn't remember the answer, and she couldn't transfigure her snuffbox into a proper mouse (it still had Snivel's Fine Snuff imprinted on its fur and it didn't have tail) causing her to receive extra homework. Then, in Potions, her cauldron overflowed and she received a warning glance from Professor Snape, something that rarely happened to Slytherin students. In magical healing she administered the wrong potion to a patient and Madam Pomphrey rushed to administer a potion to counteract Blaise's mistake. In Ancient Runes she had put up with Draco and then a double Arithmancy had her nearly on the edge of her seat: the edge farthest from Draco who had pressed his leg against hers. She felt like going to her room and screaming out her frustration, but the mountain of homework, plus extra practice kept her there late, later than many of the other Slytherin students who either skived off or didn't do it thoroughly. Something about their uncaring attitude bothered her, perhaps it was because she worked so hard for her slightly above-average marks and they barely worked and received average marks. And, or course, there was Draco who was second in the class by barely trying. Everything seemed to come with ease to him, except the perception of when he was not wanted.

It wasn't until after she had finished her homework and many of the students had left for bed that she remembered the letter and opened it. It read:

_Dear Blaise,_

– she stopped; she knew the handwriting. Wanting to throw the letter into the fire without reading it, she forced herself to continue – 

_You probably know who this is. Maybe you recognized the handwriting. Maybe you recognized my owl. Maybe you saw me looking at you this morning, mesmerized by your beauty. Maybe you do not know who I am at all, but I suspect you are smarter than that; smarter than you let on; smarter than you think you are._

_I've tried to capture your attentions for fourth months with affection, gifts, and charm. And yet, you seem oblivious. I know that this is just an act; that you're playing hard to get. And I don't mind. I like the challenge. You knew I'd like the challenge. You knew it without asking. Maybe you've watched me as much as I've watched you. I won't lie to you, you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen and you have all the attention of any boy you choose, and many you don't._

– Blaise wanted to inform him that she didn't want any boy's affections, especially not his – 

_But I can see the others watching you, like I do, admiring your black hair that falls like a dark waterfall over your shoulders and your eyes that look so similar to the semi-precious gem. And I don't want anyone else looking at you like I do. You're mine, it's simply fate. Maybe you haven't accepted your attraction yet, but I have, and I'm willing to do something about it. I don't care who I'm arranged to marry. Arrangements can be changed. I don't care if they object to our union. I want you._

_Meet me in the common room tonight after everyone has gone. I'm tired of playing games and want to claim you as mine._

_Draco___

            She felt like laughing. He was completely, ridiculously, head-over-heels, infatuated. _You're mine, it's simply fate? Well she had something to tell fate. "Bugger off, Draco is not my soul mate."_

            Blaise looked around the common room. It was empty except for a pair of seventh years that were practically shagging against the wall as they made their way up the stairs. A note of panic entered her stomach and she checked her watch quickly, reading 1:00 before shoving her books into her bag and standing to leave. She was almost to the staircase when a hand flew out from the couch to grab her wrist. At the sudden motion she dropped her bag and was tugged over the couch to land squarely on top of Draco Malfoy. She jumped up and twisted her wrist in his hand, only succeeding in irritating her skin. Deftly, he pulled her down onto the couch, pinning her there.

            "What did I say about games, Blaise?"

            "You said I shouldn't play them. And since I'm not, release me." He chuckled.

            "Surely you don't believe I believe you, do you? I know you, Blaise. I know you better than you know yourself."

            "Oh really? And how's that?"

            "I know girls, Blaise, and you're all the same."

            "This girl's not."

            "Oh yes you are, Blaise." He touched his nose to her, affectionately.

            "Why are you saying my name with every single sentence?" He ignored her and bent closer.

"You know you want me, Blaise, I know you do."

Draco Malfoy had cornered her, leaning her back against the couch as he pinned her, his lips brushing her earlobe as he spoke. She shuddered and he grinned, thinking it was from desire. The firelight glinted victory in his eyes, but he would never win her.

"I think you are sorely mistaken. You don't want to make me resort to drastic measures, do you?" She lifted her leg that was trapped between his, hinting at his potential danger.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Blaise. You don't want to damage the most vital bit of me. The part you want the most."

Blaise wasn't sure when the boys had started noticing her, whether it was their eyes sliding over her body like they were trying to x-ray her or if it was their not-so-gentle touches on her thighs and butt. But once she did notice, she found she didn't care for their pre-pubescent flirting techniques (if they could be called techniques). They weren't even all that attractive, the boys-who-looked, and she reduced them to ashes before her with basilisk looks, like she tried now. In response he released her wrist and threaded his fingers through her hair. What was it boys had with long hair? They just couldn't keep their hands off of it!

"I love it when you look like that." She smacked him, hard. He wrenched his hand out of her hair, pulling a few strands in the gesture, and sprung back, holding his hand to his cheek in complete disbelief.

"Well, there has to be one girl who doesn't want to get into your pants." Anger stirred, covering his face like a well-used blanket. Then confusion. Blaise herself was confused; he never showed his emotions. Finally, incredulously, he laughed.

"I guess there must be, and it seems I've found her, of course I always thought it was Granger…no, I hardly think a Slytherin would deny me. You must be a lesbian to not want me." She wanted to slap him again, to slap the cocky edge out of his smile, slap the stupidity out of his perfectly shaped skull, but an idea popped into her head. Not only would this get rid of Draco, the most persistent of all of the boys-who-looked, but it would get rid of _all of them. They wouldn't touch her. They wouldn't flirt with her. And she wouldn't have to hex them with ball-burning hexes._

"It seems you've found me out. Congratulations." He looked stunned; it was something he'd never expected from her. Hell, it was something she'd never expected from herself.

"You're not…"

"I am." Oh the things she would do to be left alone.

And from that faked confession forth, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zambini were friends.

~~~~~

So that's the first chapter. Just a little background: this is a parallel/sequel of my D/G fic "Thrill of the Hunt", so you might want to read that first, although I hope this will be understandable enough to stand on its own. And don't you fret, there will be much Blaise/Harry action in the near future. Please review, it would make me as happy as a drink of butterbeer.


	2. happiness and angst

Disclaimer: All unfamiliar belongs to me. Just a note "schadenfreude" is a German word meaning "taking pleasure in the misery of others". It's a truly wonderful word; pity they don't have a word like that in English. "Sadistic" is the only one close enough.

**happiness**** and angst**

_ Five. Draco is such an idiot._

            Blaise had noticed his roving eyes since the beginning of his infatuation. It all began one week after the beginning of school, though she never knew why; Draco never told her anything if he could help it. _Six.__ She had nudged him gently for about two months, trying to weasel out the reason why his eyes always seemed to wander, why he had stopped hanging around Crabbe and Goyle and instead chose to do homework in the library with her. And sometimes Blaise would join him._

            _Seven._

            She was always in the library whenever Blaise went , and so was Draco. And he just kept staring and staring. And Blaise could see why. She was pretty enough, with vibrant hair bright enough to catch any boy's attention. And then there was the body; she was shaped like one of those moving manikins in the front window of Madame Malkin's. _Eight.__ But there was also the taciturn beauty, the gentle smile, the appreciative yet forgiving green eyes. Sometimes when Blaise looked at Ginny Weasley, she wondered if she really was a lesbian and it wasn't just a lie._

            _Nine_.

            This was the first time she had been in the library without her. And, Blaise noted, she wasn't the only one who noticed. Draco kept glancing at her empty chair, obviously disturbed by her lack of presence. _Ten.__ The dratted boy was so distracted, he had only completed three sentences on his parchment. _Eleven.___ He really needs help._

            _Twelve_.

"Preoccupied?"

"You could say that."

"You know, she won't appear no matter how hard you keep looking at the chair."

"Like I want her to." Blaise raised an eyebrow. "It's just a distraction from all this mental activity."

"If you say so…"

She saw him stretch and return to his work, her continuous quill scratches interrupted occasionally by his shuffling papers. She could feel the effort it took for him not to look. Half of her enjoyed his suffering, the other half wanted to _Avada_ him and put him out of his misery.  _Ah, good old schadenfreude. _

"I'll be back," he said irritably. Blaise watched as Draco stood up and walked tensely out of the library, catching his glance back at the empty chair. _Thirteen_.

Draco was fortifying himself with longing that only led to misery, surrounding himself with a mess as awful as gobstone sludge, that much she could see. And Blaise was certain as to the cause of Pansy's rejection and Draco's self-condemnation. It all had begun with a certain red-haired Gryfinndor although she had no idea why or how it had all begun, which would make her fiddling all that much more difficult. But as much as she liked to watch his suffer, it was really getting to her.

There were hundreds of possible causes. Maybe Draco had liked her from afar, gone in for the kill and been rejected. It wouldn't have been his first rejection, but it would have been painful nonetheless. Draco hadn't _really liked Blaise, he had just seen her as like him and someone he could ally himself with during times of Pansy's simpering. Her rejection of him was probably more embarrassing then anything else. It wasn't like he knew the truth. Blaise couldn't really blame Draco for not telling her everything, she kept secrets from him too._

But that still didn't make his little infatuation any better. And she could tell it was eating him up inside, whether he knew it or not. He had started staring during meals, and it was only a matter of time before the other Slytherins noticed. He stared at Ginny the way a thirsty man stared at a goblet of pumpkin juice that was behind an invisible barrier, like he was trying to drink her in with his eyes.

But what to do…Blaise didn't know which cards to play, nor what the game was. All she knew was what was in her hand: trust, prodding, the ability to plot, Draco's mounting desire, and her supposed lesbianism. She had tried prodding which had led to nothing. Draco's desire was not something she wanted to deal with directly, so maybe she would play plotting with it. Trust she would save for later…or perhaps trust in his ability to keep a secret…that was it! She would play all her cards. She would ask Draco to find out if Ginny was a lesbian, pretending to have an interest in her. That was bound to lead to intimacy. Draco would have to get close enough to Ginny to get a response and well…Blaise just hoped she could extricate himself before his chivalry prevented him from going for what he wanted.

~~~~~

The Great Hall was extraordinarily annoying, filled with loud voices of raucous schoolchildren. Most of the times, Blaise preferred not to eat there, taking a plate of food out onto the grounds or to the Astronomy Tower when it wasn't already occupied. Draco, being a Malfoy, always had a seat or two saved for him, usually by Pansy as it was today. Blaise moved close enough to Draco to show her intention of sitting beside him and then settled herself between Draco and Pansy. Turning away from Pansy's miffed expression, Blaise drew Draco into a conversation almost immediately, manipulating the conversational groups that sprung up around them. Only when everyone else was occupied she allowed him to drift away reeling him in again when she caught him staring at the Gryfindor table. Discretely, Blaise poked him in the ribs.

"What?" he asked, turning his head unwillingly to look at her.

            "You're not eating." Blaise looked intentionally where he had been gazing before, a playful grin on her face. "Unless there is something more interesting than food…"

            "Nothing's more interesting than food," he snapped, shoveling mashed potatoes from his plate to his mouth and tearing his gaze from the Gryfindor table.

            "I'd say Professor McGonagall prancing about in her knickers on the teachers table-"

            "Maybe for you. Besides, she's not."

            "Please," Blaise said, delicately cutting a piece of chicken and eating it daintily, "She's not my type."

            "She's not!" He feigned surprise. "I thought you were all for the surly types. You hang out with me, after all."

            "You're not surly. You're just my little boy toy." She patted his arm as only Blaise could. All other attempts at patting would have been met with hexes.

            "I am not," he replied, moving from the rapidly eaten potatoes to the roast chicken, "little."

            "How would I know that? I have no desire to get into your pants."

            "Nor do I."

            "I have perfectly good reasons to believe you want to get into your own pants, for instance the sweat marks on your sheets every morning. And there was a time you wanted to get into mine."

            "Ah well. I was under the Imperio curse, or something like that. Your father wanted to bring you back to the bright side." She smiled.

"Honey, there's no coming back from the Dark Side."

            "We'll see about that." As she forked some string beans, Blaise searched desperately for a conversational bridge to her plot but before she had found it, she was drawn back into conversation with Pansy. Behind her smiling façade, Blaise cursed the girl. All Pansy had wanted to talk about was shoes.

~~~~~

            Blaise awoke the next morning her mind firmly set on her goal. Nothing was going to get in her way today. She tried to get ready as fast as she could (only to be hindered by Pansy asking advice about shoes, which Blaise thought Pansy had far too many of. Fed up by Pansy's pickiness, Blaise had eventually simply pointed at a random pair, given them to Pansy, and left) only to find Draco already in the Common Room, brooding into the fire. Draco brooded so often, Blaise wondered if that was his natural expression.

            "How's about pile of toast heavily buttered, with greasy, oil-spouting sausages and some nearly burnt bacon for good measure?" she asked, speaking to him from behind the couch. Draco jumped visibly.

            "Sounds like an early grave."

            "Which wouldn't be too bad," Blaise remarked, skipping into the hallway with Draco at her heels, "just think, you could have a nice cozy coffin in the Malfoy crypt and you'd never have to write another blasted essay for transfiguration."

            "Hm…sounds like a plan." The Great Hall was almost empty, with a few early risers. Not all of the platters had been filled yet, and so Draco drew her over to the fire where they could warm themselves from the air that had gone frigid in the night. No matter how hard she tried, Blaise couldn't seem to subtly slip the topic of girls or the Weasley girl into their conversation. It was almost as if Draco was deliberately avoiding anything to do with her. Blaise watched the doorway for the other Slytherins as the Great Hall became fuller by the minute, and she grew more anxious with every green badge she saw. The more people that were around, the more people could overhear her, and that was the last thing she wanted. Eventually, the Great Hall had filled up and Blaise was almost ready to strangle Draco for not picking up any of the hints she was dropping, and almost hexed Millicent when she came and started talking to them. Blaise took Millicent away towards the other Slytherins and was hurrying back to Draco (who had just started eating) when she saw Pansy approaching him from the other side. _Merlin, no.___

            "So you've started on that heart attack?" Blaise asked, sliding next to Draco quickly in order to monopolize his conversation time. "What would you recommend?"

            "The house-elves have truly outdone themselves. I'm convinced these sausages are just oil in disguise."

            "Oh good, just the way I like them." She helped herself to the sausages, not eating until Pansy had passed behind Draco and was a good distance away, sitting next to, oddly enough next to Crabbe. Blaise thought Pansy detested Crabbe. But she didn't have time to ponder this, Draco wasn't eating his food, due to the fact he was transfixed by a certain sixth year and she was most definitely not letting this opportunity pass.

"You're ignoring your food again." Draco didn't register her comment and she purposely followed the path of his eyes.

"She's pretty isn't she?"

"I suppose."

"Maybe she's not all that pretty-" Blaise rested her chin on her fist, her elbow on the table. "-just captivating."

"You could say that." Draco was eating again, albeit reluctantly.

"You like her, don't you."

"No, she's a muggle-loving-"

"Spare me." He did.

"Look, if you don't like her so much, you can help me. I like her."

"You do?"

"Don't look so surprised. I think we'd make a lovely couple."

"Yeah, you'd be the couple of my fantasies if you'd let me watch you in the bedroom," he said blandly.

"Don't take that tone with me," she teased. " I want you to find out if she's like me."

"If you mean cruel and crass then no, she's not."

"I mean if she's a lesbian, you thick-skulled ferret."

"Well if I didn't have a thick skull I wouldn't have survived the bouncing."

"Seriously, Draco." He put his fork down.

"I think you picked the wrong guy for this, Blaise. I don't think she'd tell me if I had a smudge of dirt on my forehead."

"And neither would I. It's funny when you don't look perfectly put together."

"It is not!" As much fun as she was having, they were getting too far off topic and Blaise needed him to agree.

"Just try to ask her out."

"She'd say no as an automated response."

"Draco, you could charm a porcupine into giving up its quills with your smile."

"Which is what I'd be doing."

"Just _try it. I don't want to let just anyone know about me, you know that. I had to tell you because you wouldn't lay off. Just do the same with her and the secret will be yours."_

"It's not that easy, Blaise."

"Please, Draco, just try?"

"Fine," he sighed, looking at the center of his undivided attention, "I'll try."

It was cruel and she loved every minute of it.

~~~~~

            For the most part, Blaise left Draco to his task, prodding him foreward by staring frequently at the Weasley girl. As she watched she would find brief stints of animation that were often suppressed when anyone else noticed her. Once or twice, Ginny had caught her looking and Blaise had simply smiled back, knowingly and kindly, until Ginny had broken their staring contest and looked away. Blaise could definitely see why Draco was enraptured, Ginny was like a puzzle that seemed simple until you tried figuring it out. Then it double-fucked your brain.

            Every day seemed to pass in agonizing sluggishness as she waited for Draco to announce that he and Ginny were getting engaged and ask her for help naming their babies. Well, maybe not something as extreme as that, but Draco wasn't one to give progress reports. Except she could tell he was making progress. Sometimes Ginny would look up and smile at Draco, so Blaise looked at Ginny less and less frequently; Draco might get jealous. Of course, Draco would never admit it.

Two weeks had passed before she received any news. And then what she received wasn't really news at all. Draco had asked Ginny to meet him at Hogsmeade, and please, please, please could she distract Pansy. Well, Draco didn't actually beg but it was as close as that somehow-endearing aristocratic prat would come. Besides, distracting Pansy was as easy as distracting a baby with a lollipop. All Blaise needed to do was suggest a trip to Gladrags and Pansy would be more than thoroughly distracted from anything but the clothing. The true request came with Blaise putting up with Pansy all day, which Blaise decided would be worth it if Draco could finally pay attention to his hormones and what they were screaming to him at the top of their lungs. She was getting a little sick of seeing him pine.

Hogsmeade Saturday came quickly enough. Blaise rose early to see Draco off before waiting on the steps so that she could glue herself to Pansy's side for the entire day. She wasn't sure what was worse, planning to spend the entire day with Pansy or planning to spend the entire day in Gladrags. And both at one time…Draco had better get some action or she would castrate him with piano wire.

"Pansy!" Pansy had just walked down the stairs in a becoming pink cloak. Well, it would have been becoming, if it hadn't been made of dyed rabbit pelts.

"Yes, Blaise?"

"We, just _have to visit Gladrags today."_

"Oh, yes! I hope they have a new shipment in, you know how I _hate_ wearing clothes that other people have tried on."

"Oh, I _know," Millicent added. Blaise looped her arm through Pansy's as they walked past Filch who was checking their names off of the list. Snow crunched merrily beneath her feet as Blaise walked, admiring the giant icicles that had tacked onto the gates. The sky lit a brilliant blue before them as the giant swarm of students walked down the road to Hogsmeade. Wistfully, Blaise thought it was the perfect day for a snowball fight in the park, but she walked on, her arm still in Pansy's while the boys trailed behind them._

When they entered the picturesque little village, they stopped first at Honeydukes because it was on the way and Crabbe and Goyle always spent a good deal of time there, measuring proper amounts of candy as if they were potions ingredients. Blaise wondered at how they managed to be so precise when measuring candy yet so abysmal at measuring potions ingredients. She didn't see Draco leave, which was probably good and her stomach tensed slightly when she did notice he was gone. Thankfully, she accepted a Peppermint Toad from Goyle which promptly reduced the tension (How can you be tense when there's a toad hopping in your stomach?) as they all headed down the street to Gladrags.

The store smelled plasticky, an almost disgustingly sanitary smell, but Pansy dove right ahead. For the next few hours, it was hard to find her amid the rows upon rows of hangers, unless you counted the occasional flinging of an article of clothing into either Crabbe or Goyle's outstretched hands which were already laden with clothing and hangers. Millicent wasn't as enthusiastic and Blaise shopped with her, comparing materials and styles. By the end of three hours and countless "does this make me look fat?", Pansy had selected 6 shirts, 2 skirts, 1 pair of pants, 3 pairs of shoes, and one necklace to buy. Millicent and Blaise were more conservative in their purchases, Millicent buying a new blue cloak cut in the latest fashion and Blaise a nice maroon shirt. When they emerged once more into the daylight (Blaise had to blink several times before her eyes adjusted) they found Draco waiting outside.

"I thought I'd find you here," he said cheekily. Pansy had already gotten as close to him as was socially acceptable, but he wasn't flinching away as usual. Blaise could see a change. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes sparkled. His usual scowl had disappeared and while he wasn't smiling, Blaise knew he was very happy. She smiled and winked and he grinned widely, something she hadn't seen him do often. The only time she could remember him smiling was when he had gotten the highest score in Potions the past year.

Crabbe and Goyle emerged behind them, rubbing their eyes stupidly in the bright light before Pansy shoved her bag into Crabbe's hands and led the way to the Three Broomsticks. The sun celebrated with Blaise, glinting off of Draco's slightly messed hair almost angelically.

~~~~~

Thanks _so_ much for all your reviews. I do read and take pleasure in them all. I'm sorry this took so long to update, but I've been as busy as…someone busy.


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